


High Heels, Red Dress

by jaerie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Closeted Character, Drag Queens, Emotional Sex, M/M, Mpreg, Outdoor Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Queer Culture, References and Descriptions of War Scenes, Semi-Public Sex, Soldiers, Tent Sex, Unsafe Sex, World War II, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 05:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaerie/pseuds/jaerie
Summary: Louis answers the call when Pearl Harbor is attacked and there is no way around it.  The United States is at war.  Hiding his queer identity isn't so hard until he attracts the attention of a particular soldier.  It's all lies and secrets until the war is finally over.  Maybe then Louis can finally have his happy ending.  It's up to fate to decide.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 304
Collections: 28 Proposals Fic Fest





	High Heels, Red Dress

**Author's Note:**

> 28Proposals prompt #64. mpreg shotgun wedding proposal where the pregnant person says no at first
> 
> Hello! I started with this fic after a chapter of a book I was reading really caught my interest. With Harry hosting the Camp themed Met Gala this year, It was really interesting to dive deeper into the origins of camp in WWII armed forces. I am going to list some reverences that I definitely recommend if you're interested in that sort of thing! There are some inaccuracies -- there always are in a mpreg au -- but, for the most part, many things are inspired by actual events and are fairly accurate for the time. WWII was really gay kids, like really really gay. 
> 
> here are some videos and references that are used in this fic
> 
> [Coming Out Under Fire: The History of Gay Men and Women in World War II by Alan Berube](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/738658.Coming_Out_Under_Fire) This was my main inspiration, particularly the chapter "The Gang's All Here" which I have read far too many times. Read this if you are at all interested in the origins of camp and how it became part of gay culture. 
> 
> [The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat - Carmen Miranda](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLsTUN1wVrc)   
[Wild About Harry - Carmen Miranda](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyYXzMKBx3Y)   
[I, Yi, Yi, Yi, Yi (I Like You Very Much) - Carmen Miranda](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBsf8DdRwpI)   
[Carmen Miranda drag impersonation from 1945](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zDW7rhFK-c)
> 
> [Open Secrets - A Canadian documentary on being a gay soldier in WWII](https://www.nfb.ca/film/open_secrets/) (This one talks about the kind of female impersonators referenced in this fic that did it full time or "professionally" during the war)

December 7th, 1941 — a day that would live in infamy. Not just for the United States of America, but for the rest of the world as well. Huddled around the abused radio with the rest of the set crew at work, they listened to the crackling voice of President Roosevelt and Louis knew that everything had changed. He could feel it settling in his bones like an extra weight. He could feel it in the hairs prickling up the back of his neck and in the twisting flip of his stomach. War was no longer an abstract concept looming in some distant part of the world. They’d been ambushed. The war had finally come to them. 

He looked up and met the eyes of the other young men around him and saw his own fear reflected in their eyes. If the Japs had been able to blindside Pearl Harbor with their attack, was there another wave on it’s way to them over the Pacific? Were there Japanese subs creeping up on them at that very moment? Was the drone of approaching fighters drowned out by the volume of their radio?

It hadn’t been much longer than a year since Louis had hitched a ride to Hollywood and found a place for himself with the creative minds behind the scenes of glamorous movie and stage productions. Before he’d managed to weasel his way onto a crew, he’d gone to apply for one of the aircraft companies already in heavy production for the war. The house where he now rented a room along with some other fellows he worked with was only a short bike ride away from the beach. He was so close to potential danger. 

Los Angeles wasn’t the sparsely populated rolling plains of the midwest where he’d spent his childhood– it was the booming heart of American culture. The shift in the air around them was proof that none of them were naive enough to think that the same things that had drawn them to Hollywood weren’t the same things their enemies would be looking to destroy. 

Louis had never felt such a fierce determination to protect or defend anything in his life as he did in that moment. As he continued to listen to the unwavering voice through the speaker, the feeling only grew stronger. To sit idle would be to let them win and Louis wasn’t about to let anyone win. 

The next morning, Louis was in line outside the recruitment office along with hundreds of his fellow Americans moved to serve by the same events. They came together in defiance. 

Height, weight, medical history– he went through the physical exams with the herd of cattle being picked for market. He read out the letters and numbers on the eye chart, responded appropriately to the hearing test, coughed when prompted. He was passed through at each station, the red stamp of denial never hitting his papers. 

Still in only his underwear, he was led into a storage closet sized office and sat down across from a man in a lab coat and thick rimmed glasses. There was only a small desk between them where the man was writing in a folder that looked similar to the one Louis held. He abruptly flipped it closed and reached his hand out for Louis to pass his over. 

Louis sat nervously as the man lifted his glasses and squinted down at Louis’ records. A series of questions followed to which Louis answered truthfully. He understood the reasoning behind most of the questions. They would never win the war with soldiers that would freeze up or run when faced with stress or danger. Louis was confident and sure, ready to steel himself for his country. He could do this. 

“Do you like women?” 

The man’s question caught him off guard. What did that have to do with the army? 

“I like them just fine, sir.” Louis answered with a confused crease of his forehead. 

“Do you have sex with women?” 

“Heavens, no,” Louis answered automatically and then quickly swallowed the laugh that was about to follow. The realization of where this line of questioning was headed was like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He wasn’t back at The Cocktail where he spent his nights dancing with those of like mind. It wasn’t backstage with his peers throwing jokes around. This was the army and the army didn’t have room for sissies, didn’t have room for  _ queers _ . 

Louis cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. 

“And why not?” 

“I was brought up to wait until marriage, sir.” Louis answered with a schooled expression. 

Technically, his answer was true. Back in his hometown anything beyond hand holding was considered scandalous before wedding bells and an exchange of vows. If they only knew that Louis, the golden boy of the church choir, not only engaged in sex on a the regular but sought out men as his partners. They probably wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’d been able to hide it in his letters home so far, yet knew the gig would be up as soon as he settled down to start a family. He’d surely be disowned as soon as he fell pregnant. So many things had changed, but a man surrendering to another man was still a disgrace in most parts of the world. He could hide it just a bit longer. 

“A good Christian boy?” 

“Absolutely, sir.” 

“Welcome to the army.” 

The stamp of acceptance came down on Louis’ papers and he was in.

  
  
  


—————

  
  


Louis looked around once he arrived at  Fort Tetcher for basic training and somehow he knew it was exactly where he was meant to be. The bustle of organized chaos reminded him of being on set and he felt right at home. Everyone carried out their tasks around each other in a carefully choreographed dance that would make no sense to anyone on the outside. It made sense to Louis and, once he found the flow, he knew he would quickly fall into line. This was the kind of environment that made him thrive. 

It was true that Louis had his sights set on acting when he made his journey out to Hollywood but had quickly developed a love for his work behind the scenes and was no stranger to hard labour. He could hoist and hammer two by fours with the best of them while creating elaborate backdrops and throw sand weights like they were nothing. The vigorous workouts and manual labour of basic training only made him stronger while he watched some of the others struggle through their long days. 

He could see one of the training courses from just outside his barracks and grinned while he watched as the men struggled over the wall and drop down to the ground while they tried to cross the bars. Louis was practically a monkey when it came to crawling up rope ladders and maneuvering his way around support beams to set lighting and other technical aspects of the stage. There was no doubt in his mind he was going to ace basic. 

Apart from his dislike of early mornings, Louis kept his grumbling to a minimum and found that he quite enjoyed the camaraderie of the other men in his outfit. Many of them were similar in age and they gravitated towards each other and then split off into different groups depending on the topics and mood of the day. It was easy. 

War was boiling across the ocean to either side of the world and, though they took their training seriously, they defaulted to entertaining behaviour whenever they could to lighten the mood. It was unspoken that their glimpses of self-created joy might be their last with companies around them shipping out nearly every day. It was one of the only ways they could keep their spirits high. They knew it was likely many of them wouldn’t make it home. 

As always, Louis was often the center of attention. His impressions, quick quips and flamboyant behaviour drew the men to him like magnets. 

It wasn’t long before he found himself in the middle of a group of creatives from New York. Actors, musicians, playwrights-- they all bonded over the work they’d done before the war. One had been in an off-Broadway cast of a play Louis had been on the crew for in LA and the world felt like a much smaller place. 

When it came down to it, the biggest thing they had in common was that they were all just young men. They’d all been in the process of starting their own lives when they’d been interrupted. Many had just started or just finished school while others were starting careers or figuring out what they wanted to do. No matter what it was, to them, it was all fresh and new and joining the army was no different. 

But then there were a few of them that shared something more. It wasn’t spoken out loud, only identified with a glance or a look. It was something they just  _ knew _ , something within themselves reflected in each other. 

Louis had realized it in himself early on which also meant he knew how important it was to be cautious with his behaviour around others. 

It was God who created man in his image yet it was those who worshipped Him that condemned the use of the body they were given. It was normal, it was natural, it was implied that god was the same way and still it was shunned. 

From the beginning of time, men’s bodies possessed the ability to carry children. Many theorized that it was a function built into life as a fall back during times of disease and famine, for any event that required faster rates of repopulation. Though it was mainly the women who bore children, male childbearers had been well documented throughout history. There were even kings who chose to birth their own heir out of fear that the bloodline would be potentially tainted by infidelity. 

As humans evolved and the necessity for higher birth rates dwindled with modern medicine, culture shifted along with it. It became taboo for men to be pregnant and the stigma progressed until the measure of a man rested strongly on hyper masculinity. The only Christian way to bring children into the world was between a husband and wife, anything else was sin. 

Louis preferred men, it was the simple way to state it. When he was a teenager, he daydreamed about falling in love with a man and starting a family of his own. It was something that would never be accepted back in his hometown which is what prompted him to branch out as soon as he could. It wasn’t until California that he’d found a group of friends and establishments where he was not only accepted, but celebrated. 

That was not the case in the military. There was no place for pregnancy when it came to soldiers in war. Louis knew he’d be kicked out with a dishonorable discharge immediately if he let his true colours really show. He’d be accused of being a distraction or temptation to the other men. They didn’t understand that it didn’t work that way. 

So Louis shopped but never bought. He appreciated all the handsome men around him – especially in the communal showers – but never let his eyes linger too long. His personal life was put on hold until he returned home, just the same as everyone else. 

It was a couple months into training when Louis was called to the  base commander’s office. Fearing he’d been caught stashing sweets or sneaking into town for beer, Louis held his head high and steeled himself for a good tongue lashing he probably deserved. He wasn’t exactly a saint.

“I hear you worked in films as a civilian,” the major said, hardly looking up from the paperwork on his desk. 

“Yes, sir, films and theater,” Louis nodded and attempted to conceal his confusion. Their civilian life was of no interest to the officers on the base.

“Washington is putting together special services units for base morale. The shows the G.I.’s have been putting together in New York are causing quite a stir out there. They’re pushing to have each base put on some type of theatrical production or show for the men and we need volunteers to do it.”

Louis’ perked up. He listed off his credentials when prompted which consisted of a long stream of theater and film productions he’d been a part of in some capacity. The major hardly glanced up at him but nodded along anyway. He didn’t seem impressed yet must have been satisfied with his resume. 

“We need at least a few men who know what they’re doing and your buddies volunteered your time. Meet up with the others and bring me a list of supplies needed by the end of the week and I’ll see what fits the budget. The show is set for six weeks out.” 

Louis held back his grin but just barely. He already knew what friends the major was speaking of. He would have volunteered their names if the roles had been reversed. He was excited. It didn’t matter what kind of show it was so long as he could be a part of it. 

  
  


—————

  
  


“Good god, we’ll be run out of the army!” Louis exclaimed when they all met for their first serious planning session. They’d all brought their ideas to the table but, so far, the one laid out in front of them was the best yet. A variety show filled will comedy including a chorus line of popular tunes with their lyrics changed to make light of army life and skits to fill out the lineup. 

That idea alone was fine. It was the casting that made Louis hesitate. Without being able to cast civilians in key roles, they had to be a little creative. He wasn’t sure how the men would react to their solution, to other male GIs dressed in drag to play the parts of the women. It might put an unwanted spotlight on their little group and their taboo interests. 

“When’s the last time you’ve seen a women around the base, darling? There aren’t any WAC’s for miles. Plus, I’ve seen all those wandering eyes in the showers. The boys will eat it up. They’ll come just to see the display of these fine legs,”  Jones wiggled his eyebrows suggestively which set the whole group off into eye-watering laughter as he lifted his leg and rested his foot against the edge of the table. They were surprisingly smooth when he pulled up the leg of his trousers and Louis wondered when he’d been able to sneak away to shave them. Maybe he had done it right there in the middle of everyone, laughing while he did. It would be like him. He was one of the only ones– other than Louis– who could get away with such a thing. Play anything off as comedy and it created an illusion to hide behind. It was daring and took a certain personality to do it. 

“It’s a fine line, but they’re doing it out in New York. I saw a couple of their shows when they brought them down to the city. We play it up, we get some laughs, and the whole thing is a success. If we impress somebody, maybe we’ll end up with cushy theater jobs through the war like that group that got a touring contract.” 

“We’ll put up signs for volunteers and hold auditions to fill in the roles. It won’t just be us queers, hun. I’d kill to see some of those men bumbling around in a pair of heels.” 

Louis lightened up. They couldn’t court marshall the whole company for a little comedy. Plus, that wouldn’t be the entire show. The revue had room to incorporate all of their ideas in some capacity and Louis was getting excited. He could already see his set designs coming together. It would take some talent to be creative with limited supplies. 

They got to work right away. They put together a preliminary list of essentials and then divided the tasks between them. It would be a lot of hard work in their precious free time, but none of them blinked an eye. Each one of them was used to high pressure productions. 

There was a script and songs to write, costumes to obtain, roles to cast. Louis was in charge of the set and given the task to find some dresses, just like the rest of them. It was going to be difficult when everyone was already having to do without during wartimes. It would also be difficult to convince the army to buy them. It didn’t dampen their spirits. Louis knew they’d figure it out. 

—————

Word spread fast around the base about the show. There was a flood of men for auditions and they quickly put together a small band of musicians, a group with unusual or entertaining talents to fill the gaps, and of course, men who could sing. It was surprisingly easy to find volunteers willing to go along with their ideas and some even brought forward their own creative solutions for wigs and makeup.

They all got to work and soon, their show was coming together. 

Louis and another from his company named Alex were in town one Saturday trying to round up some supplies. They’d just come from flirting their way into obtaining some precious bobby pins from the girls at the drugstore when they rounded a corner and found themselves in front of a dress shop. They glanced at each other just as a woman raised her hand to flip the sign on the glass door to closed and rushed towards the door. 

Of course they had come into town in uniform. It was the ticket to get whatever they wanted – within reason – in such times. Drinks on the house, a free slice of pie, the attention of a young lady if that was someone’s thing. They all did it yet he was sure his fellow soldiers would not be impressed with their current intentions. 

They startled the poor woman when they knocked lightly on the glass, apologizing as she pulled open the door with a hand over her heart. 

“Sorry to startle you, miss,” Louis took his hat off and nodded his head in respect, “May we steal a moment of your time before closing?” 

She stepped back and allowed them to enter. “Yes, of course! What can I help you with?” 

“We are in need of some dresses,” Louis said with a charming smile while she looked at them in surprise. “We are putting on a show at the base. You know, give the soldiers a few laughs, keep their spirits high. Our chorus line is currently without proper costumes.” 

Louis was expecting the woman to scowl and shoo them towards the door at such a request. It was a pleasant surprise when her eyes lit up and she moved to finish turning the shop sign to closed. 

“Of course! What do you need?” she asked, already on her way to one of the racks. “Do you know what sizes or styles?” 

Louis and Alex shared a look and then shrugged, following her to where she was already pulling down a few of the garments. 

“I’m not really sure. Do you have anything that has been hard to sell that we could get for cheap or maybe borrow?” Louis asked. 

“Don’t worry about that part. Would you like to try some on?” 

Louis had assumed his role would be behind the scenes so he hadn’t thought about trying any of the dresses on himself. When asked, though, he couldn’t resist and was given a sleek green chiffon dress to take into the dressing room. 

The fabric felt soft and delicate against his skin after being used to the rough and scratchy wool of his uniform. He let it slide over his body and liked the way it hugged his curves in just the right way. There was a long mirror mounted to the wall and he let himself have a nice long look as he turned and posed and held his body in ways he normally wouldn’t. It had big poofy sleeves and a low neckline that would be scandalous if worn on a Sunday. Aside from the extra darts in the chest he couldn’t fill naturally, it fit like a glove with a bit of a flare at the bottom. 

He pushed the door open and swayed his hips as he walked out, grinning with Alex’s wolf whistles. 

“You look like Carmen Miranda!” Alex laughed and grabbed some stockings to roll up and stick into the dress to serve as breasts. “Just throw a fruit hat on your head and you’re the spitting image!” 

Louis laughed and raised his arms to mimic the dancing he’d seen on the movie screen. Alex had tears in his eyes as the shopkeeper – Rita, they’d learned– giggled along with them. 

“Louis! You should do a bit in the show! Carme-louie!” 

“This is the wrong kind of gown for fruit hats and hip shaking!” But Louis still grinned and wondered if he could come up with an act entertaining enough to add to the bill. 

“I can help you with a costume!” Rita jumped up and started sifting through the garments. The hangers screeched and squeaked as they were pushed along the rack until she held one up triumphantly. “Try on this skirt!” 

He turned and went back into the dressing room, shimmying out of the green dress and pulling the skirt high on his waist to rest just below his navel. It was a brilliant red with a ruffle-lined slit up to mid-thigh that gave a glimpse of leg when he moved the right way. It was a touch on the long side and dragged the floor behind him as he took a few steps. 

“I think it’s too long,” he said as he emerged from the dressing room before realizing his chest was bare and apologizing to Rita. 

“Oh!! I have just the thing!!!” She jumped up and ran to the back, returning with a frilly yellow blouse that she helped him into and then came around to face him. She gathered up the tails and tied them together in the front, rolling the extra fabric up underneath so his midriff was exposed. She took the still balled up stocking and pushed them down the front and stood back with a huge grin to admire her work. 

Louis turned to one of the long mirrors and his hands cupped his makeshift breasts to adjust them into place. He had to admit that it did look quite good. The poofy sleeves billowed to his elbows and the tie at the front made the top look similar to one of Carmen’s getups. 

He grinned and shook his hips. It was perfect. 

“The boys won’t be able to keep their hands off me!” he joked and danced his way over to shimmy in front of Alex. He nearly tripped on the hem of the skirt but righted himself just in time. 

“Some high heeled shoes should help with that!” Rita disappeared again and returned with a pair of slightly worn heels. They weren’t a pair that were being sold in the shop and were possibly a pair of Rita’s own. 

It was a tight fit, but soon Louis was wobbling around the shop several inches taller than he had been before. They pinched his toes and were too narrow, but he figured he could deal with it for a few minutes up on stage. 

“What do you think?” he asked Alex with a twirl that almost landed him flat on his face. 

“You look wonderful, darling! I think the show can’t go on without Carme-louie!!” 

They picked out a handful of dresses for the others and tried to negotiate payment while Rita boxed everything up. They were even willing to use the items on loan. In the end, they accepted them as a gift in exchange for tickets to the show when they were ready to perform. It was far more than they expected, but they couldn’t afford to turn it down. 

He wrote home to his sister the next day, his handwriting growing messy with excitement. She was the only one who knew his truth from back home and he was excited to share his plans for the show with her. He asked if she could spare any lipstick since it had been hard to get his hands on. He also requested that she make a run to the local five-and-dime for some flashy material and other odds and ends they hadn’t been able to acquire. He quickly received a large package back complete with lipstick and rogue. The biggest surprise was the small wooden box closed with a small clasp. He opened it and found a pair of false eyelashes and a little note saying to give it his all. Louis was more than ready. 

  
  


—————

  
  


When they weren’t practicing or off securing supplies, basic training went on as usual. They had yet to be divided up for their small groups training so many of their activities were on a large scale or targeted towards the individuals. Early morning runs and hikes were done en masse along with other strength and cardio training done in the yard. 

Louis found that he was quite skilled with his shooting, hitting his target nearly every time. He was praised by his commanding officer and was given special training in sharp shooting with a few others that he enjoyed very much. It reminded him of the carnival games back home but tried not to think about that comparison too much. In the back of his mind he knew what he was being trained for once they left the protective bubble of the base, it was just better not to dwell on it. 

It wasn’t every evening that the theater group was able to meet all together yet rehearsals carried on no matter what. The skits were written with Louis’ name penned in the writing credits on nearly every one. The songs had been a bit more difficult with the limited talents of their small group of misfit musicians, but they had a chap at the piano that carried things along when needed. 

Jones had a knack for slipping in cheeky lyric changes to some of the days more popular songs which had them rolling on the floor while they narrowed it down to the best of them. 

Collectively they had enough exposure to costume design that they were able to bring together some of the tricks they’d learned and apply them to their makeshift supplies. Louis figured out a way to fasten lengths of twine together and then comb out the strands to make lovely golden blonde wigs for some of the men. Alex was able to modify a mop to work and others braided together thick bunches of yarn into pigtails attached to a lady’s hat. 

“Do we all have to shave our legs like Jones?” one of the men complained one day while they were trying on some of the dresses for size. Some of them needed to be altered to fit their wide shoulders while others resorted to crafting a bodice from an old tshirt to pair with a skirt. 

“No! That’s the whole point of the chorus line!” Louis shook his head while he pinned up the hem of the dress the man was wearing. “We aren’t trying to replace the women! Hairy legs above stockings and five o’clock shadows are what make the joke!”

“Isn’t it campy,” Jones declared with a wave of his hands which made a few of them in the room snort while the comment flew straight over the other’s heads. It was dangerous to flaunt their coded language around in such mixed company. Louis walked that fine line himself but never as brazenly as Jones.

Louis had, so far, kept most of his act and his costume to himself. The day of the show, he would need to acquire a certain amount of fruit to fashion into a tall hat and had already made connections with someone in the kitchen to do so. It was only going to cost him a bag of sweets that he wouldn’t miss anyway. 

The rest of the act Louis had been practicing with Alex late once everyone else had gone back to the barracks. He knew it was just a comedy routine, just a way to make the men laugh, but he didn’t want it to fall flat. He could joke and move his body for the impersonation, but he wanted the singing – even with the exaggerated accent – to be spot on. 

The plan was to make his entrance with a section of The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat and close out his act with a sample of I’m Just Wild About Harry. Of course he planned to break into Chiquita Banana at some point. With his hat piled high with fruit, it was only fitting. 

It wasn’t until the dress rehearsal that he unleashed his full act and he beamed when his makeshift audience was laughing through watery eyes when he was finished. He’d never been able to have a true moment to shine on the stage and it helped his nerves that it seemed to go over well. 

His problems came with the weight of the fruit on his head, the large heavy hoop earrings attached to his lobes and the ill fitting shoes that caused him to stumble more than once. If he could keep those in check, his act would go off without a hitch. The whole show would, really. 

He laughed his way through the can-can with the others, the manly posture and the makeup caked over facial hair was enough to make him double over. The skits were great as well, only made better by the sets Louis had dressed using large sheets of cardboard and paint with a few other items brought in from around the base. They were all young in their theater careers or amateurs, but the comedic timing was excellent and Louis knew their show would be a success. With any luck, they’d be asked to repeat the show for other bases and companies. He never expected the army to be so much fun. 

—————

The night of the show finally rolled around and Louis was buzzing. Since the stage they were performing on was no more than a temporarily repurposed flatbed semi truck trailer pulled up along the narrow end of a massive rented tent that had the faint scent of mildew, there wasn’t a true backstage area for them to get ready. They hung bed sheets for a backdrop and along the front edge so it would not only feel more like a real stage, but also gave them a small space behind without their activities being visible to the crowd from between the wheels. 

Some of the men had brought a few civilian girls from town in to help them with their makeup and dresses while others chose to try it out alone. Louis was one of those people. He’d sat in and even assisted on set with makeup in the past and it felt like a test to be able to replicate it on himself. During his time in California, he had been a jack of all trades behind the scenes, dabbling in a bit of everything. It was coming in handy when little problems arose backstage, finding solutions before the whole thing fell apart in panic. 

Louis wasn’t set to go on for his portion of the show until towards the end and would then join the entire cast on stage for the final musical numbers. This gave him enough time in the middle of the chaos to carefully apply his foundation, the rouge to his cheeks and to carefully glue on the fake eyelashes which took a few tries to get right. Once they were secured in place, he feared he’d be wearing them for days with how well the adhesive bonded to his skin and authentic lashes. 

He finished the look by penciling his eyebrows in with a dark colour to emphasize the arch and carefully spread the bright red lipstick along his lips. He took special care to follow the bow of his upper lip, creating the illusion that they were fuller than they actually were. 

His fruit hat was at his side which was crafted out of a small bucket turned upside down and wrapped with a turban of red material to match his skirt. It not only hid the bucket but cushioned where it sat on his head and hid his short cropped hair. The fruit had been a bit difficult to attach, but the job was done and it looked perfect when placed atop his head. 

There wasn’t much separating him from the show and it made him smile to hear the laughs they were getting from their true audience. They’d worked really hard for this.

Alex came back from one of his skits which meant one more song before Louis was on. He stood while Alex helped fix the symmetry of his boobs and steadied the fruit hat on top of his head so it wouldn’t fall off with his first twist. Louis balanced himself with a hand on Alex’s shoulder as he squeezed his feet into the heeled shoes and tried to get over the initial pain they caused. It would only be for fifteen minutes. He would be fine. 

He smirked and quirked his brow at Alex as he did a spin, swallowing down his nerves when he was giving the nod of approval and headed towards the steps to the stage entrance. 

“And now, all the way from South America, it is my pleasure to introduce for your entertainment -- Carme-louie Miranda!!” 

The piano they’d moved across the base was just slightly out of tune but not so much that it couldn’t be overlooked. It started up for his entrance as he carefully climbed the stairs and burst through the bed sheet curtain with even more flare than Carmen Miranda herself. Beads adorned his wrists as he raised his hands and motioned as he began to sing The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat, the crowd already eating it up. He shimmied his hips and shook his shoulders which made the fake breasts at his chest shake. 

He was having so much fun with it that he nearly forgot he was on stage. Making people laugh with his flamboyant antics was something he was already good at and this felt no different from joking around with the boys at any other time. 

For the sake of time, he planned to only sample part of each song and after the first had finished, he went right into his Chiquita Banana routine. It was during this that he went rogue, coming down the steps into the audience with an extra sway of his hips. 

He was improvising now, playing off the energy of the crowd that was right there with him. 

In the front row in the folding chair along the aisle was a face that had yet to crack into even a small smile. They’d never interacted before, but Louis had seen him around. Styles, he thought his name was, Harry Styles. They were close to each other in the alphabet and had been placed side by side a few times. 

Sitting with his legs spread in a forced casual pose, it was the only thing about him that wasn’t tense. Louis couldn’t pass up the opportunity and took a seat on one of his thighs. Winding his arms around his neck, he crossed one leg over the other like a proper lady and batted his eyelashes. 

Louis didn’t exactly have an endgame when he’d plopped himself down in his comrade’s lap, but knew he at least had to make him laugh. 

“I, yi, yi, yi, yi, I like you verrrry much,” he sang to him with his exaggerated accent and booped him right on the nose. 

Harry’s face remained set with his lips pressed together though it wasn’t to suppress a smile. It only made Louis want to try harder. He reached up to his fruit hat and wrenched loose a single banana that he brought down to deliberately peel right in front of Harry’s face. 

“I don’t know how you can be in such a foul mood at such a fine comedy show,” Louis said, keeping up his act, “Here, have a nibble of my banana. That will surely cheer you up!” 

Louis was aware of how the innuendo could potentially get him in trouble surrounded by army men and officers, but he’d already committed. Pulling out of the gag now would only draw attention to it and that it, just maybe, wasn’t just a joke. 

He put the tip of the banana up to Harry’s lips who didn’t budge. Some of the laughter had started to die out when they realized this may not have been rehearsed and Louis didn’t want to lose them now. 

Louis leaned in to subtly whisper so only Harry could hear as the banana started to smash into his face. “Come on, give ‘em a laugh, help me!” 

Just when he thought this had all gone horribly wrong, Harry finally cracked a smile and laughed, humoring him with a bite off the banana. It was a forced reaction and fake for anyone who looked too closely, but the crowd loved it. 

“Thanks, darling,” Louis leaned in to coo. It shifted his position where he was perched on Harry’s thigh and his knee bumped against the probable reason Harry had been so tense to begin with. Or maybe not. It was probably just wishful thinking on Louis’ part. Harry was quite attractive after all.

He smashed the rest of the banana into Harry’s face and threw him a wink before he stood to make his way back to the stage for his closing number. 

He broke character for half a second when he began his closing number, coincidentally a version of Wild About Harry. He made it extra enthusiastic, throwing his arms out to finish with a bang before blowing a kiss to Harry in the front row. He couldn’t take much of a bow with the fruit balanced on his head so he waved his way off the stage. 

The heels finally betrayed him on his way down the stairs, his ankle buckling on a misstep. Luckily it was behind the curtain with only his fellow performers around to see. His fruit hat went flying from his head but he was able to right himself before going down himself. He was still smiling as he limped his way over to a chair to await the final musical numbers, the shoes left abandoned where he kicked them off. 

  
  


—————

  
  


The post lights set up along the path towards the barracks cast long shadows as the  _ girls _ headed to celebrate after the show. Arms linked and skipping, their bright singing and exaggerated rehashing of lines and events from the show created their own glow to guide them as a group. 

With rouge still rosy on his cheeks and lips stained red, Louis fell just a few steps behind the group with his twisted ankle still twinging with each step inside his boots. He laughed as one of the makeshift wigs fell off and called out. “Careful! Those were hard to make!” 

The show had been successful and he smiled to himself as he thought fondly over the highlights. He didn’t mind that the group was powering on without him. It was nice to have a moment to himself to reflect. Even with the sets he’d dressed for films and all his other accomplishments in Hollywood, the show still felt like his greatest achievement. It meant something more than just entertainment to both the performers and the audience. He could tell. 

He dawdled on the path humming the closing number to himself in a bit of a day dream and smiled as he remembered the wink the colonial had thrown him for a job well done during their final bows. It was all he could do to not burst from the approval. 

A hand came out of nowhere from behind and clamped over his mouth while another gripped him around the middle. He tried to scream and struggle loose but the hold was surprisingly firm. He was being kidnapped and he thrashed as hard as he could until a deep voice hushed him softly before loosening his arms. He whirled around and opened his mouth to give a verbal lashing to whoever was behind the attack but was shushed by another hand pressed over his mouth. His back was pressed up against the cold metal of one of the jeeps parked in an orderly line a few back so they were hidden from the path. 

They were in the shadows, but he could focus enough to see a familiar face on the other end of the arm holding him. 

“Styles?? What in the hell…?” 

It came out muffled against Harry’s palm and he shushed Louis again before he looked around to see if anyone had heard. Louis was stunned into a confused silence which only grew when Harry pressed his body flush with his. 

Harry rested their foreheads together and his breath was warm and heavy over Louis’ face. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he breathed and started to mouth at Louis’ lips. 

Louis was shocked. He couldn’t believe that Harry Styles, the macho soldier that sat stony faced beneath his Carmen Miranda antics, had him pinned against an army Jeep with a lusty motive. He hadn’t even cracked a smile until Louis had prompted him to and even then it had been strained and fake. Now those lips were pressed against his and large hands were gripping the curve of his hips. 

“What are you doing?” Louis hissed and pressed a hand against the center of Harry’s chest, ready to push him away. 

“You got me so hot in that get up,” Harry mumbled while he pressed fumbled kisses along Louis’ jaw and snaked his fingers under his army-issued undershirt. “You almost had me firing off in my pants in there.” 

“You what??” 

Louis stared straight ahead at the small reflection of light in the window of the truck in the next line over while he replayed his interaction with Harry through different eyes. He could see it now for what it was. The tight set jaw, rigid position, unyielding limbs. He hadn’t been uncomfortable because Louis was a man in drag, he’d been uncomfortable because he was trying to hide the tent pitched in his fatigues the whole time. Louis really hadn’t imagined what he thought he felt. Harry had been hard. For him. 

The bubbling laugh that threatened to erupt died in his throat as Harry’s lips latched onto his neck and sucked. A groan came out instead which was quickly silenced by Harry’s lips covering his. Louis was a willing participant now and eagerly licked into Harry’s mouth that tasted faintly of cigarettes and coffee. His hair was cropped short, just like the rest of them, but was due for a trim. The extra length was just enough for Louis to get his fingers into it while he held them together. 

It was a thrill that anyone could come along and find them. They were hidden in the shadows from the lights of the path, but it would only take a quick scan from a flashlight to expose their tryst. How scandalous. 

Harry’s fingers found the buttons holding up Louis’ trousers and slipped each free with skill. There wasn’t anything erotic about his stiff khakis, but it didn’t matter in the dark. He hadn’t gotten off with someone else since one of his last nights in California and he was ready to go even with the odd circumstances. 

For such a tall, lean man, Harry was deceptively strong and lifted and turned Louis to bend him over the open seat of the Jeep as if he weighed nothing. Louis caught and propped himself up on his forearms and craned his neck to look back. It had been an unexpected shift that left him a little stunned. 

Harry was right up against him, fumbling with the buttons of his own army issues. Since the skirt Louis had worn on stage was tight around the waist, it showed the lines of undergarments so Louis hadn’t worn any that evening. The pale skin of his cheeks was exposed in the cool air which made the heat radiating off Harry more noticable. 

He could feel himself growing wet and moaned when Harry slid two calloused fingers along his crack and then tested the give of his hole. The touch wasn’t harsh but wasn’t overly gentle either. The location didn’t give them the luxury of finesse. 

He watched Harry fumble for something in his pocket and then the recognition dawned on him in the dim light. Harry tore the thin paper wrapper off the rubber and let it carelessly flutter to the ground before sheathing himself. They could both be kicked out of the military for this, they both knew it, so he hadn’t been expecting foreplay when Harry nestled the covered head of his cock against him and started to push in. 

Louis dropped his head down, breathing deeply as he tried to relax into the stretch. It felt like Harry’s dick matched his long body when it stretched on for ages before he was all the way in. 

“Shit,” Harry cursed out in a whisper and held still for a few moments before his thrusts began.

Louis’ erection had been uncomfortably caught against the cold Jeep so he pushed back until he had enough room to get a hand on himself. 

It was hard and fast with Harry grunting softly near his ear with every thrust and Louis trying to keep up. They could hear voices of other men heading back to the barracks, but Harry didn’t stop, even when they passed close by. 

Louis came first on a particularly direct stroke, shooting all over the side of the Jeep without hesitation. It didn’t take Harry long to follow and they stayed together through heavy breaths until their heartbeats returned to normal. 

Harry pulled out and started to button up his pants while Louis kept one hand on the Jeep to steady himself on wobbly legs. He felt good and a bit naughty while he buttoned himself up up. 

Once his pants were in order, he looked up to Harry, a small grin growing on his face. 

“Your lipstick is smeared,” is all Harry said before running his fingers through his messy hair and walking away. 

The grin fell right off Louis’ face as he was left alone in the dark. He didn’t bother telling Harry that his lipstick was smeared because the rest had transferred onto Harry’s own face. If all he wanted was a quick impersonal fuck from a man who could pass for a woman, Louis didn’t owe him anything. 

—————

  
  


Without even a moment to catch their breath, they were back at it bright and early the morning after the show. Louis already knew things were going to be different as soon as they arrived on the quad for morning exercise. They were being split into their small groups for training exercises. 

Their names were called off and Louis found himself standing in a cluster that unfortunately included Harry Styles. The encounter was still fresh and it didn’t help that Harry was ignoring his existence. Louis didn’t care. He could fuck and forget just as much as the next guy. 

He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly and waited for their orders. To his horror, Harry walked to the front of their group and started to give instructions. He’d missed the memo that Harry had been promoted but, as he looked around to the other clusters, he could see that each had someone who had taken lead. 

They were going on a hike. They were each to carry their full gear and weapons, bivouac that night, and return to base by late morning. Styles started pairing them up and Louis must have spaced out for he startled when his name was called. 

“And Tomlinson! You stay close to me.” 

Louis stared at Harry incredulously. The words weren’t said, but the tone heavily implied that Harry had assigned himself to Louis for protection. Sure Louis put on women’s clothing for a little fun but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fully capable of taking care of himself. He’d had no problem proving his abilities since he arrived on base and he wasn’t about to let one night of makeup and wigs – and a quick fuck – change his reputation. 

He set his jaw and hefted his pack onto his back like it weighed nothing. He wasn’t going to let Harry invalidate his hard work just because he’d allowed himself to be bent over a Jeep. That was exactly it. He had  _ allowed _ himself to be bent over a Jeep. Harry wasn’t entitled to any possessive claim over him. 

The morning sun was hot when they set off across the rough terrain outside the main buildings of the base. There was a large group of them following a route on a map in the possession of the leader of each section. Louis scowled at the back of Harry’s head for most of the day, resenting the fact that they’d been ordered to stay close to the buddy they’d paired off with. 

They stopped for a brief lunch break and then kept trekking, pushing on through the fatigue. 

The sun had set by the time they stopped for the night. Louis could tell that they weren’t more than a handful of miles from the base, but their curving and weaving path through the hills made it seem further. He was cranky and exhausted and it was difficult not to let it show. Any crack in the armor he’d put on that day felt like weakness and he refused to give Harry any ammunition to use against him. He could do anything Harry could do. He wasn’t helpless. 

They ate their light meal and then set about finding places to sleep. Tasked with camouflaging the place they had chosen to bivouac, Louis found and claimed a space next to a large boulder that he could use to help hide his location. As he started to move the brush around in front of the boulder, he found that it was a lot like dressing a set. It was like second nature to take a step back and then rearrange things to look like a normal part of the scenery. He was feeling quite accomplished when Harry tromped up to his side. He’d almost forgotten that Harry was his assigned buddy for the task. 

“That’s actually pretty good,” Harry commented in surprise yet still made it sound like an insult to what he’d expected from him. 

“Of course it is,” Louis spat back, stomping over to his little haven to arrange himself for sleep. He huffed with irritation when Harry followed him. He’d never hated the buddy system so much. 

“Budge over,” Harry said and Louis glared up at him. “I’m not going to get docked for this because you have an attitude.” 

Harry squeezed himself into the space between Louis and the boulder, only fitting on his side since Louis had created it for just himself. 

“Why did you pair yourself with me anyway?” Louis hissed through the growing darkness.

“Thought you needed looking after.” 

It came out as such a casual comment but filled Louis with red hot anger. 

“Looking after!?” Louis would have jumped up and yelled indignantly if it weren’t for the stillness around them and the faux combat zone they were pretending to be in. It was still hard to keep his voice from rising above a whispered shout. “I don’t need looking after, least of all from you.” 

Harry didn’t appear perturbed about Louis’ outburst, arranging his pack as a pillow as if he’d said nothing at all. 

“It won’t be like this once we get over there,” Harry finally said once he’d settled. 

“You think I don’t know that?? You think I expect it to be like some fun camping trip? I’m just as equipped to take care of myself, maybe even more so than you. I’m a much better shot than you and certainly know how to make myself blend in. Your clumsy ass is going to get picked off right away.” 

Louis huffed and turned so he didn’t have to face Harry. The ground was in no way comfortable, but he was exhausted enough from the day that he knew sleep would find him as soon as he calmed himself down from their heated exchange. Harry Styles was unbelievable. 

Unbelievable, but not important enough for Louis to dwell on his anger. This little trek would be over and Harry would again blend into the rest of the faces at the base. Harry Styles wasn’t worth his time. 

Louis was nearing the edges of unconsciousness when he felt movement against his back and then the weight of an arm on his side. He stayed still while Harry shuffled up against him and his hand spread out over Louis’ chest. Harry nuzzled his cold nose against the back of Louis’ neck and it caused his skin to prickle with goosebumps where the chill of the night hadn’t yet reached. It was the surprise that delayed his reaction. 

“What are you doing?” Louis whispered with annoyance. 

“I’m cold,” he felt mumbled against his skin. 

Louis had to admit that Harry was giving off a pleasant amount of body heat that he instinctively wanted to snuggle into. He’d never been a fan of being cold. 

He thought Harry had the same idea, wiggling as he pressed their bodies together. It was only then that Louis felt it and froze while he tried to process the situation. Even through the layers of their stiff uniform pants, he could clearly feel Harry’s hard length trapped between them and nestled in the dip of his crack. Harry’s hips were moving just enough for the slightest bit of friction and Louis wondered why he still hadn’t pulled away from it. 

“What are you doing?” Louis asked again with less conviction. He didn’t want to admit that just the hint of Harry’s cock had him half hard from the memory of the night before. Maybe Harry hadn’t been the gentleman Louis would have preferred him to be, but he’d still fucked him good. 

“I’m not queer,” Harry said with a puff of hot breath against Louis’ neck and roll of his hips. 

Louis was blunt with his response. “Not queer like your hard-on or not queer like your dick up my ass?” 

“Stop. I’m not queer. I just needed something.” 

Louis was insulted, but it wasn’t like he’d been dreaming up some romance with Harry. It had only been sex, and sex was just sex when there weren’t any expectations. It didn’t matter if Harry was just using him to get off if Louis was doing the same. It had felt good either way. 

“I’m not either,” Louis lied. 

Somehow, it felt safer to put himself on Harry’s level. It gave him a weak hope that Harry wouldn’t turn him in if this went sour. Louis could pretend they were just two young men seeking a release from the looming threat of war. There was a real possibility that one or both of them wouldn’t return. Their indulgence in a few rushed and hidden orgasms seemed like the least they could do for themselves. 

Harry’s fingers felt like ice when they wiggled their way under his tucked shirt and then down the front of his pants. There wasn’t much room for him to move so he pulled them back out and fumbled with each button of Louis’ fly. He flinched when the cold digits wrapped around him and it took him longer to get hard because of it. 

It still felt good, even when his hand dove further into the warmth between his legs to fondle his balls. Warm lips pressed long, lazy kisses against the back of his neck in contrast to the cool tip of Harry’s nose. Louis’ own body temperature was rising as blood pumped through his body at a faster pace. He bucked into Harry’s fist and bit back a moan when Harry’s other hand circled under his side and spread out over his stomach. It effectively held him in place for Harry to rut against him from behind and Louis was embarrassingly gone for this forbidden tryst. 

Louis had always admired a man in uniform but had never inserted that into his straight man fantasies. Those usually consisted of seducing married men, something Louis would never actually follow through with. However, reducing a handsome masculine soldier into a mess of moans and murmured words was actually happening. It was hot to have that effect on a straight man.

Louis came with a whimper after the swipe of a thumb over his sensitive slit and he let it happen when Harry separated their hips far enough to yank their pants down. He tucked the warm head of his prick between Louis’ cheeks and it felt good when he came with hot spurts against his hole. 

It didn’t feel good minutes later after Harry had tucked them both back in without cleaning him up. There wasn’t much of a use to get up and stumble to their latrine when it had already soaked into wet spots in his underwear. He would just have to deal with it until they got back to base. 

“Felt good,” Harry mumbled against his neck, snores following merely seconds after. 

Louis had to admit that it had, in fact, felt good, but it didn’t stop an unsettled feeling from sinking low in his gut. It also didn’t stop a foreboding feeling from nagging at the back of his mind. 

He quickly pushed it aside. They were headed into war. He’d be a fool if he didn’t have a sense of foreboding hanging over his head about that. 

He took Harry’s hand in his and tucked it up against his chest. These fleeting moments might end up being his last moments of happiness. He knew enough to hold onto them. 

  
  


—————

  
  


Louis’ last days of basic training rushed by in a flurry of activities. Things had taken a turn and he gathered that they were hastily being prepared as replacements in the European theater. This theory proved correct when he found himself on a crowded carrier bobbing in the Atlantic ocean. It was the only break they’d had from drills and they picked them up again once they set foot in England.

The groups they had been split into for their first hike remained, for the most part, their official squads. With his sound ability to stay calm and think on his feet in moments of high stress, Harry had been promoted as their squad leader. Louis trusted Harry’s leadership and direction and felt confident at his side as the sharp shooter of the group. They learned to take nonverbal cues from each other with ease and Louis knew they’d make a great team when they were finally thrust into combat. 

Apart from the cheeky smirks and glances in the communal showers where they were stationed, the pair hadn’t been truly alone together since the night they’d spent together under the open sky. They’d managed a few rushed handjobs in closets or bathroom stalls, but that was the extent of it. Louis didn’t voice it, but he was excited when they both were granted a pass for a day to go into London. 

They took the train into the city together, grabbed some lunch and then roamed around the unfamiliar city for the afternoon. Neither of them had been to another country before and laughed together as they pointed out the obvious differences in sights and culture and found comfort in the similarities. 

When the sun began to set, Louis tried not to get his hopes up. The things that had happened between them weren’t things they’d ever talked about in the light of day. They’d had a lovely day together, but that didn’t mean anything. Harry had made it clear – he wasn’t queer. Louis was the one who had to keep himself in check. He couldn’t confuse or blur the time they spent together with the times Harry just wanted to get off. 

He was truly surprised when Harry turned to him on the sidewalk, cocked his head to the side and asked, “Should we head back or find a hotel?” 

They had supper at The Savoy and Louis received another shock when Harry held up a key and led him around to the back stairs so no one would see them together. Louis couldn’t fathom how Harry had come up with the money to afford a room at the fanciest hotel Louis had ever laid eyes on. Harry wouldn’t give him an answer or accept his protests that they could find a cheaper bed somewhere else.

“I always dreamed about being rich and staying in places like this,” Harry said as he dragged a finger along the fancy dresser and then rested a hand on one of the bed posts made from polished dark wood. “But I guess one night will have to do.” 

Heavy blackout curtains blocked their view from the window but Louis didn’t mind. Harry still walked across the room to where the balcony doors were located as if he might easily push back the heavy fabric and step out into the cool night air. Instead, he turned and slowly unbuttoned his jacket before he draped it carefully over the chair. 

Louis followed his lead, folding his own and closing the distance between them to set it on the cushion of the same chair. He looked up at Harry who stood taller than him, especially in his boots, and tried to keep his expression neutral, tried to limit his expectations. There was only one bed but they’d had to share before. 

Harry didn’t meet his eyes, instead focused lower where he’d lifted his hand to thumb over one of Louis’ shirt buttons. The anticipation was building for Louis as he stood there, scared to make a gesture that might seem romantic, a move that would scare Harry away.

It was Harry that stepped forward and ducked his head to press their lips together. They’d never kissed in their encounters after that first night and Louis felt something shift as they pressed together. Their pace slowly changed, the walls they’d both built around themselves coming down, crumbling brick by crumbling brick. 

They weren’t two soldiers anymore when their uniforms crumpled to the floor and left them fully exposed to each other. When they reached the bed, they were transported to a different time and place. Louis wasn’t hiding who he was and Harry wasn’t pretending it was just for an orgasm. They were lovers when they hit the mattress. 

They took their time exploring each other’s bodies, only breaking apart for Harry to retrieve a paper-wrapped condom from the pocket of his jacket. 

“A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” Louis asked him with a teasing grin. 

He took the condom from Harry’s fingers and crumpled the thin wrapper to toss it off the bed before helping Harry slide it on. He then started to turn to crawl onto his knees but Harry’s hand on his hip made him pause. 

“No, like this.” 

Louis lay back while Harry’s hand smoothed up his stomach and waited. It was clear that this was the first time Harry had been so intimate with a man, his eyes focused on taking it all in. They’d never been fully naked together before, not in a state of arousal. 

His hand traveled down between Louis’ legs, moaning as he discovered just how wet Louis was for him. 

Louis did some looking of his own while Harry’s attention was elsewhere. Harry really was quite handsome looming over him. For a few brief moments, Louis let himself pretend that they were together,  _ actually _ together. They were newlyweds on their honeymoon in a fancy hotel without the weight of war on their shoulders. They had just made it home from having drinks with friends as a couple without having to hide. They were celebrating a hero’s welcome after finally returning home. It didn’t matter to Louis what the scenario was, he just wanted it to feel normal, to feel real. 

Harry made love to him slow and deep until he was overwhelmed and begging. He’d never had such an attentive lover. It was late when they were finally spent but neither of them seemed settled enough for sleep. Harry led him to the bath, filling the tub with hot water and retrieving the floral scented bar of soap from beside the sink. 

The clawfoot tub was deep enough for the water to reach their shoulders but not long enough for them both to stretch out. They still folded themselves in with Louis leaning back against Harry’s chest between his bent knees. Harry lazily moved the soap bar over Louis’ chest and shoulders until there were soap bubbles floating on the surface and a pleasant fragrance in the air. 

“I think the last time I soaked in the bath was before I left home back when I was sick,” Louis said. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the luxury of relaxation. The tension and ache in his muscles from months of drills and constant fitness routines melted into the water warm enough to turn his skin pink. 

“Will probably be the last time…” Harry trailed off and didn’t voice what they could both fill in on their own. 

They were really in it now, really at war. The air raid sirens had sounded nearly every night since they’d arrived in England. He wondered if they might have sounded that night as well while they’d been too wrapped up in each other to care. 

At any given moment, they were possibly mere hours away from being thrown into the heat of battle. They’d both received word that they’d lost friends, lost relatives, lost peers they’d only ever seen in passing. Anything they did could be the last time they’d do it. This could be their last bath, their last good meal, the last time they brushed their teeth, their last kiss. 

They were both quiet while they let it sink in. 

“You scared?” Louis finally asked softly. 

“Shitless,” Harry whispered back, his lips moving against Louis’ damp hair. 

There wasn’t much they could say to comfort each other, but it still felt nice to be held. Harry was solid and grounding against his back and his fingers were gentle over his chest. 

“It’s all going to be left up to luck once we get out there.” 

Louis nodded and slid his hand up to link their fingers together over his heart. His dog tags were still around his neck and felt heavy where they rested. They might be the only part of him that would make it back, the only proof of his existence. 

“There’s so much I haven’t done,” Harry continued in a voice so soft and vulnerable that Louis wouldn’t have heard it had it not been so close to his ear. His words sounded so exposed. “Always wanted a big family. Wanted to raise ‘em in the big farmhouse my parents built. Wanted to finish school, wanted to do something with my life.” 

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get home safe,” Louis answered with a squeeze of his hand. 

Harry squeezed right back and pressed a kiss against the top of his head. “I’ll look after you. You deserve to have a wife and kids too.” 

Right. Because at the end of all this, Harry wasn’t queer and thought Louis wasn’t either. Louis didn’t want to think of the end. The odds weren’t in their favour that any of that would even matter. He closed his eyes and continued to pretend. 

  
  


—————

  
  


It was less than two days later when they were herded onto another ship, their destination unknown until their feet were solid on French soil. Their first days were boring, almost like the hikes they took back home except that their final destination didn’t mean a hot shower and an actual bed. They walked on nearly vacant roads through stretches of wide open countryside stopping only to eat and shut their eyes for a few hours. 

Louis’ feet were sore and his boots threatened to rub his skin raw. He pulled all three pairs of wool socks on which made his boots snug but added an extra layer of padding. It was also growing cold and helped to keep his toes from going numb as quickly. 

Each of them were encouraged to pick a buddy and Harry immediately gravitated towards Louis. They didn’t talk much as they made their way through France, but then no one really did. There was a growing anxiety amongst them the further they went. Farm houses they passed appeared abandoned if he didn’t look closely. He could feel the fear rising from the locals when they started to pass abandoned cars and wagons

The first body they passed was not one of a soldier. Louis bit down on the inside of his cheek until it bled in an effort to not break down over the picture of the ditch that had seared itself into his memory. Harry could tell and walked a step closer to him for the rest of the day. His stiff posture and set jaw told Louis it had affected him as well. 

That night they were allowed to set up their small two man tents to ward off the light dusting of snow that started to fall. Louis, usually the entertainer during their small breaks to crack through the tension, wasn’t in the mood to pull out any jokes or break into an impersonation while the harsh reality of war was still fresh in his mind. He’d come to realize that none of his preparations had been adequate. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. 

He retired to his tent and stared up at the dark canvas. Every part of him was cold and he longed to be back in the steamy bath with Harry. It was the last time he’d felt content.

Harry joined him not long after and Louis turned on his side to give Harry some room. He hugged his arms around himself but it didn’t bring much relief. He wasn’t going to survive if he couldn’t find a way to stop himself from feeling everything so strongly. 

Louis welcomed the warmth of Harry’s body when he shuffled up against his back. His lips were warm against Louis’ neck and he closed his eyes to focus on the soft, intimate kisses pressed against his skin. They were out of place in their harsh environment. 

He didn’t push Harry’s hand away when it went for the buttons of his trousers nor did he protest when Harry pushed them down just enough for access. He wasn’t hard and he wasn’t wet but he didn’t want Harry to stop. He needed it to ground him. 

He closed his eyes and let himself give in to the feeling of soft lips and wandering hands. Harry didn’t stop touching him until he finally became stiff in his hand and his slick followed shortly after. Harry’s cock nestled between his bare cheeks and the head pushed at his hole with a warmth he desperately needed to feel in his body. 

He was bare, Louis could tell, but he didn’t stop Harry from pushing inside. They both needed to feel it, to feel each other. 

It was slow, penetrating deep into Louis’ soul with each thrust and he was glad Harry didn’t comment when tears started rolling down his face. He thought he could feel Harry’s against his neck as well. 

They both came with muffled noises that could have easily been mistaken for sobs and held each other long after it became uncomfortable. Eventually Louis had to tuck himself back in so he didn’t lose anything to frostbite and felt Harry do the same. 

It was easier to feel immune to the carnage after that. There were things he knew he’d never forget, but his brain pushed everything away for him to deal with later. They were on constant alert now and he couldn’t let himself lose focus. 

Their days and weeks blurred together with the passing scenery of snow covered destruction. They were ambushed and shot at. They watched their peers die around them. They all kept going. 

Harry held him the first time Louis killed a man. He’d sat there in a state of shock while everything around him felt warbled and sounded as if he were underwater. Harry held him right there in plain sight of the other soldiers without hesitation. They’d always hidden themselves away and now no one even gave them a second glance. They all needed each other or they were all going to break. 

Louis thought he was going to be the first to go when he started to vomit at even the sight of blood. The smell of it was overwhelming and learning the distinct scent of each stage of decay did him in. It was everywhere and it was becoming familiar. Louis didn’t like that. 

It was while he was retching beside a tree after attempting to bandage up a small cut to Harry’s hand from a piece of broken glass that something felt off. Nausea over guts and gore was easily explainable, but it wasn’t over an everyday cut. 

He thought back and was sent into another round of dry heaves, this time from nerves. If it was true, if he acknowledged the possibility, Louis would be living in a nightmare worse than he already was. He couldn’t be pregnant on the front lines. He thought of Harry fucking him bare that night inside their tent in the snow and just knew that was when it had happened. He was going to be kicked out of the army if he wasn’t killed first. 

He wiped his mouth and choked back a sob. He was pregnant. He had to be. By Harry. Harry who wanted a big family. Harry who wanted to make something of himself and raise his kids in the house he grew up in.  _ Harry who wasn’t queer.  _

“I think we should get you to a doctor,” Harry placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in concern. “Maybe it’s some kind of stomach bug they have over here.” 

Harry was so caring, so much different than Louis had initially thought. Louis wouldn’t have made it in real combat without Harry to ground him and now he was going to lose everything with just a handful of words. It was better to just rip the Bandaid off. 

“Harry, I’m not sick. I think I’m pregnant.” 

Harry stared at him in shock, mouth attempting to form words but nothing came out. 

The moment was cut by the loud pop of machine gun fire and they dropped to the ground. They didn’t have time for a crisis. They didn’t have time for a moment. They hardly had time for a conversation. That was exactly why Louis couldn’t be pregnant in action. 

  
  


—————

  
  


Louis was spread out on the cold stone floor on his stomach, his elbows propping him up enough to see through the sight on his rifle. They were only surveying the area but didn’t want to make themselves easy targets by standing in front of the blown out windows incase there were any enemies in the area watching for them. The town had already taken some heavy bombing and there wasn’t much left of the stone church building they were using as a lookout point. 

“Marry me,” Harry said from where he sat against the wall beside him. 

Louis looked away from the sight and stared at Harry as if he’d gone mad. “What are you talking about?” 

“Marry me. You’d be able to go home on my benefits and you’d be taken care of.” 

Harry looked confused and conflicted, but Louis could tell he’d been thinking this through. Louis didn’t want to be a problem that required heavy thought. Louis also knew that Harry hadn’t thought the scenario through to the end of the war and the situation he’d find himself in that would only lead to bitter resentment. Harry would still want to have his wife and kids and life when he returned from war yet he’d be tied down to Louis for all legal and spiritual purposes. It wouldn’t end well for either of them. 

“Why? So you can hide me away as your secret back home so nobody thinks you’re queer?” Louis said with venom slowly working its way through his system. He sat up with complete disregard to any danger in their position. “Well guess what, I  _ am _ queer, always have been, and I stand to lose a lot more than you here. I’m pregnant, Harry. I’m the one who is the kid you don’t want and all you want to do is send me away so you don’t have to deal with it.”

He picked up his weapon and stood to stomp towards the stairs which were barely still intact. He whirled around to face Harry again before he reached them, his anger still brewing. 

“I don’t want your pity proposal. I don’t want to be married to someone who only proposed because they knocked me up. I don’t need or want your help” 

“Louis, you could go home. You could get out of here. You’d have my benefits and my pay. You’re not going to have anything if they discharge you for misconduct!”

Louis looked up towards the ceiling and could see the fluffy white clouds of the clear day through the holes in the roof. He didn’t want to cry, he wouldn’t let himself. It wasn’t fair that Louis would be seen as the only one at fault as soon as anyone became aware of his condition. Harry wouldn’t have to deal with accusations or a court-martial against him. Nobody would care that Harry was an active participant in the activities that brought them to this point. Even if they got married, Harry would just continue on and Louis would be the one left to suffer the consequences and the stigma of a shotgun wedding. 

No, he didn’t want Harry’s pity. 

Louis heard the whiz of the bullet a split second before his body jolted and he was falling backwards. His arms flailed in attempt to grasp onto something to regain his balance or cushion his fall, but there was nothing between his fingers but air. He hit the ground with a thud that knocked the wind from his lungs and made it hard to take in a breath. Pain radiated through his body as he gasped and his jacket felt wet and heavy where he must have fallen too close to the stream. Was there a stream? He couldn’t remember. 

“Medic!” Louis could hear Harry’s panicked cries for help and only then did he realize that his jacket was wet with his own blood. He’d been shot. Picked off by his own carelessness. 

“Lou. Louis.” Harry was at his side shaking him. He turned his head and slowly blinked up at Harry’s face. He really was handsome, even with the streaks of dirt and grime on his face and the greasy clumps of his unwashed hair. 

He was jostled as someone pulled at his jacket, but he couldn’t look away from Harry’s face. He didn’t want to. 

“He’s pregnant,” Harry was saying and Louis blinked longer this time, “You have to be careful with him.” 

“Styles! Cover us! We have to get him out of here!” 

The now familiar sound of fire being exchanged exploded around them and it was the first time Louis had ever seen Harry not know what to do. He was shaking and looked around cluelessly like he might find the answer in his surroundings. 

Louis opened his mouth to tell him, to direct him, but was suddenly hefted over somebody’s shoulder instead. Pain shot through him and he cried out before it was all too much. He faded out with his eyes still focused on Harry where he stood helplessly in the rubble. 

  
  
  
  


——————————

Three Years Later 

——————————

Louis spread the newspaper out in front of him while he sipped at his strong coffee. It was much easier to read on the table when holding the thin paper up like anyone else just caused his shoulder to ache all the way through the muscles of his chest. Years later and he still wasn’t fully healed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be. 

All of the headlines had been similar for days. The war was finally over. Their boys were coming home. 

Pictures of teary reunions and stories of local heroes filled the space on each page and Louis felt guilty for not wanting to see it. He didn’t want anything to do with the war, especially the glorification of everything now that it was over. The Journalists only published puff pieces but the reality had been horrific. War changed people, changed  _ Louis _ . Nobody wanted to acknowledge the dark side. 

A dishonorable discharge and being a pregnant male had left Louis labeled as the scum of the earth in a time when patriotism and service meant everything. To potential employers and most of society, Louis had disrespected his country and didn’t deserve the opportunities reserved for the fighting men still in good standing. He’d been cast out as soon as he’d been shipped home. 

He’d returned to California broken and lost, the bullet wound through his chest only just starting to heal and the signs of his condition becoming harder to conceal. It had been rough – still was sometimes – and he often wished he wouldn’t have been too stubborn to even consider Harry’s proposal. Maybe if he hadn’t been shot he would have cooled down and accepted the offer. Maybe he could have come home to army assigned housing with the luxury of Harry’s pay to keep them healthy and fed. It didn’t matter now. 

Eventually Louis had found work with a costume shop, sewing and repairing things for various studios and productions. It was little more than the backroom of a small theater, but they’d been able to maintain steady business even through the restrictions that came with rations. People still needed to be entertained and movies were pushed to up morale. 

Louis was just happy to not be on the streets. 

Little Amelia Styles had come into the world loudly and dramatically, demanding Louis’ attention and stealing his heart right from the start. She was an energetic girl and he was relieved when he’d been allowed to bring her to the shop while he worked so he didn’t have to beg for help with childcare. She’d inherited Harry’s dimples and it was bittersweet to see pieces of him on her adorable face. The best parts of her were ones she’d received from Harry, the father she’d never meet. She was perfect with her chocolate curls, bowed lips and the sweet, calm nature that had not come from Louis. 

Sometimes he lost himself while he watched her play, slipping away to wonder what had happened to Harry. They’d been in the thick of things when Louis had been hit and evacuated. If Harry hadn’t made it, there wouldn’t have been anyone coming to Louis’ door to let him know. No one knew they had any connection since Louis had refused to name a father and he was certain Harry hadn’t said anything to brand himself as queer. Louis wasn’t even sure in which state the farmhouse Harry had spoken of was even located to try to contact his family. Amelia might be the only thing left of their son if Harry hadn’t made it back. It pained him to think he hadn’t. 

Amelia was nearly three and Louis still thought about Harry at least once a day. It wasn’t healthy, he knew, to pine over someone who would never want a relationship with him. There just weren’t many dating opportunities available, especially with a toddler, and sometimes it was nice to daydream. 

The optimism was palpable in the streets since the news had broken. There was a bounce in everyone’s step like they were sure the sun would never stop shining. It was a pleasant change from the anxiety usually tainting the air. 

He lifted Amelia onto his hip with only a slight wince and headed towards home. He rented a room from the owner of the shop – an older lady named Lorna – and it was nice to not be completely on his own. She was a great cook and Louis was thankful for it. She’d been so helpful after Amelia was born and Louis owed her a lot – probably his survival on the homefront. 

“Lorna? We’re home!” Louis called as he stepped out of his shoes by the door. He shuffled Amelia in his arms to pull her little shoes off as well. 

“Louis! You’re home! You have a visitor! He was asking around for you down at the drugstore. I happened to overhear and brought him back here to wait for you.” 

Louis wondered if it was the photographer who had been asking about some custom hats a few weeks back when he’d been picking up some supplies. He wondered if he should set Amelia down in another room first before conducting business but she was fading in his arms, her little cheek against his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to put her down when she was sleepy. 

He rounded the corner into the kitchen to the familiar clink of teacups on saucers. Lorna had so many and insisted on using them every day so that wasn’t what was out of place in his home when he looked up. 

There was a ghost in his kitchen. Sitting at the far side of the table with Amelia’s favourite teacup in front of him, full uniform clean and pressed – he didn’t fit into the scene and Louis was having trouble processing it. 

“Harry.” 

It was one word and it came out in a mix of shock and awe, a hint of a question he wasn’t sure how to ask. How? Why? What? Louis had never expected him to come, to find him. 

Louis stared with wide eyes as Harry struggled to stand. He used the edge of the chair and table for support, but he stood just as tall and handsome as he’d been before. Louis didn’t even let himself linger on Harry’s apparent injuries, he’d made it home alive and that was all that mattered. He nearly burst into tears. 

He held back and tried his best to hide his emotions. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms and Louis wasn’t about to fall for anything just because he was emotional. Harry was still the same soldier who  _ wasn’t queer _ . 

“Is that?” Harry nodded towards him and Louis realized he’d momentarily forgotten he was holding their daughter.  _ Their  _ daughter. 

“Yeah,” he croaked, mouth suddenly so dry it was hard to speak. Lorna had slipped out of the room and Louis was grateful even though he knew she’d still be listening from just around the corner. “Amelia. She’s almost three.” 

So many emotions were flashing across Harry’s face and it pained Louis when he saw a long moment of hurt and regret. 

“Almost three,” Harry murmured and lifted a hand as if to touch. He pulled it back to himself when he seemed to realize what he had done. 

Louis stepped forward with their little girl. Her cheek still rested on Louis’ shoulder which squished her face cutely. 

“Mimi, I want you to meet someone special,” he said softly. He pressed a kiss into her hair and wasn’t sure how he was supposed to introduce Harry as her father. “She has your dimples, you know,” he said softly instead. 

Harry reached out to touch Amelia’s soft curls and then met Louis’ eyes with unmatched intensity. He gripped the back of one of the chairs that squeaked while he moved and Louis was confused until Harry was wincing and lowering himself to the floor. 

“Harry? Are you okay? What are you doing??” Louis started to fuss since obviously Harry was hurt. He started to squat to his level but Harry threw out a hand. 

“No, no, I’m fine.” He looked up and suddenly Louis was nervous. “Please, stand up.” 

He rose and looked around hoping that Lorna would slip into the room to save him from whatever was happening. 

“Harry…” 

“No, Louis, please. I didn’t do it right last time and I almost lost my chance. I’ve thought about this every day since I watched them carry you off. 

“I thought you weren’t queer.” Louis tried to throw in a little bite to his jab but knew it came out as a weak whisper instead. 

Harry matched his tone. “I thought a lot of things before we got shipped over there.” 

They were quiet for a moment, both flashing back to the moments that changed them forever. None of it needed to be voiced, they both knew. 

“It was something I hadn’t quite worked out yet back then, but it was genuine. I meant it and I’ve spent years trying to get a letter to you, to contact you somehow. I know none of this was supposed to happen this way, but will you please marry me?” 

Louis looked down to see a shiny ring resting upon satin in a small box. He laughed through a small sob and wiped his eyes that had swelled with tears. 

Amelia had perked up in concern and touched the tear tracks on his cheek. He squatted down to Harry’s level with the little girl and brushed her curls back from her face. 

“Mimi, this is your daddy.” 

Harry smiled and reached out to touch her arm. 

“Hi there,” he greeted gently before his eyes flicked back to Louis. “You haven’t given me an answer yet.” 

“Yes!” He grinned and Harry’s lips were on his in a second. It was the first time he’d been kissed since he’d left Harry and it was so much all at once. So much, in fact, that he lost himself to it until a quiet “papa?” brought him back. 

“Sorry baby, I just haven’t seen your daddy in a long time,” Louis pulled back to kiss her forehead. Louis’ heart skipped a beat when Harry leaned in to do the same. 

“Hello Miss Amelia, it is very nice to meet you. I’m sorry I’ve been away, but I love you both very much.” 


End file.
